


Homework Verse: Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before...

by nyxocity



Series: Homework Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Pegging, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 14:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyxocity/pseuds/nyxocity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Anywhere But Here. Jensen POV. Jensen & Chad friendship fic with a touch of Jensen/Jared thrown in.</p>
<p>It’s like the beginning of a really bad joke; two guys walk into a sex toy shop, one’s straight and one’s gay...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homework Verse: Stop Me If You've Heard This One Before...

**Author's Note:**

> Rated NC-17 for graphic sexual discussion.

It’s Saturday afternoon and Jensen and Jared are lying on the couch watching an old movie when the phone rings.

“It’s Chad,” Jared says, like he’s confused when he hands Jensen the phone.

Jensen takes it, frowning and just as confused.

“Chad?”

“Jensen. Hey dude. I need some help.”

“You’re… calling _me_ for help?” Jensen repeats slowly.

Jared’s just standing there watching, blinking rapidly as he hears what Jensen’s saying.

“Yeah,” Chad says, like it’s no big deal. “So check it out, I met this really hot chick and we went out and hooked up last night . And turns out, she’s into the kink thing, right, I mean, when I say I was tied up last night? I mean that in the literal fuckin’ sense. So after, we get to talking, and I find out she’s into pegging."

Jensen blinks a few times and runs a hand along his jaw. 

“And I was like, huh, who do I know that’s a total freak and completely into this kinda shit? Oh, _right_.”

Jensen’s not at all sure he likes where this seems to be heading. “I'm not really used to being on the receiving end—“

Jared tilts his head at Jensen, brows rising.

Chad is undeterred. “Dude, Jared's my best friend, he tells me _everything_. You really want me to spill all the details of what I know about that?”

Jensen slouches down into the couch. “Maybe a couple of times--”

“Eight.”

_Shit._

“Look, dude, it's not about that anyway. You're the pro at how to _give_ it right. I need to know the method so I can make sure _she_ does it right--oh, and I need you to help me pick out the dildo.”

Jensen almost drops the phone. 

“See you at seven,” Chad says and hangs up.

“What just happened?” Jensen asks, looking up at Jared.

*

And that’s how Jensen finds himself in a sex toy shop on Saturday night with Chad. 

It’s like the beginning of a really bad joke; two guys walk into a sex toy shop, one’s straight and one’s gay.

And one of them has clearly never been in a place like this before and has a four-year-old’s burning _need_ to put his hands all over _everything_.

“What do you know about this?” Jensen asks.

“Only everything Jared’s ever told me—which was way fuckin’ more than I ever wanted to know, trust me.”

“No.” Okay, Jensen’s going to have to be more specific, even though he really doesn’t want to. “I meant, what do you know about it firsthand?”

“Nothing. That’s why we’re here, dude.” Chad spreads his arms in a motion that encompasses the whole store.

More specific, then. “What do you know about…” God, he hates, hates, _hates_ clinical names, but what the hell else can he _say_? “your anus.” God, he can’t fucking believe he’s standing here in the middle of a fucking sex toy shop with _Chad_ discussing _Chad’s **ass**_.

Chad, for his part, seems perfectly comfortable. “Drinking beer out of your own ass can kill you.”

Jensen stops walking and just _looks_ at Chad. When Chad opens his mouth to speak again, Jensen holds up his hand. “No. We’re just going to pretend you never said that.”

“What? Too much for your delicate fuckin’ sensibilities?” Chad smirks.

There has to be a way Jensen can… explain this without getting into the specifics of Chad.

“In Newtonian mechanics, there’s something called the coefficient of friction. In dry surfaces, the friction is directly proportionate to the pressure applied between the surfaces. For well lubricated surfaces, the friction resistance is almost independent of the specific pressure between the surfaces. Now, if we put this into an equation, ‘Mu’ equals the coefficient of friction, ‘F’ equals force, ‘Theta’ equals the angle, ‘X’ equals position. All the factors in this equation are important and dependent upon each other—“

“Dude.” Chad is shaking his head. “Not that I mind playing Pinky to your Brain, but in this example? ‘X’ equals ‘what the fuck are you talking about?’”

Jensen sighs. Fine. “Use lots of lube, not too much force, keep the angle steady and use a position that feels most comfortable for you.”

“And you couldn’t just fuckin’ say that?”

“I was trying not to have to _visualize_ it.”

Chad snorts. “Welcome to _my_ world.”

“The key,” Jensen sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “is to go slow, ease into it. The first time always hurts at the beginning, and it hurts every time if you don’t do it all the time. What she wants to do is ease in to about halfway, then push quick and hard to get past the point. If you go slow at that point, it prolongs the pain.”

Chad squints as he calculates, fingers twitching like he wishes he had a cigarette. “How much pain are we talking, here?”

_You’re shoving something the size of a cock into a virgin opening that’s designed for things to come **out** of. How much do you think it’s going to hurt?_

“Bad enough, but it passes quickly.”

“And then?”

“Hopefully, it starts to feel good. For some people, it’s just uncomfortable.”

“Doesn’t _look_ like they think it’s uncomfortable.” Chad picks up a video with one hand and considers the images on the cover. _Buttman: The Dick Night_. 

Jensen doesn’t even try watching porn anymore. He’s fairly certain that American porn is some kind of cosmic joke on the entire universe. Complete strangers fucking for even more completely inexplicable reasons, virgin men getting fisted and fucked by two men at once their very first time. Not to mention the stupendously horrific dialogue. Even if he could get past the ridiculous impossibility of all that, there’s still the fact that the sex couldn’t be more soulless if they tried. No chemistry, no heat. He’s never seen the point.

“Trust me,” Jensen says, taking the video from Chad and putting it back on the shelf. “That won’t help.”

“What about this one?” Chad grabs _The Fucking of Justin Hartley_ , and Jensen has to admit, the main guy in that one looks fucking _hot_ , but he shakes his head.

“If you want to watch _hot_ gay sex, then watch reruns of Queer as Folk.” Jensen puts the movie back and turns, walking down the aisle.

At the end of the aisle, Jensen stops short in front of a wall of shelves that stretches the length of the whole side wall. It’s filled with rows and rows of plastic cocks in every size, shape and color of the rainbow, and suddenly it really hits Jensen, what he’s doing here.

“Chad, I can't believe you're doing this.” Jensen can’t believe _he’s_ doing this, either. But Chad, he’s… so _straight_.

Chad shrugs, glancing at the display. “Hey, I'll try anything once.” He pauses, then adds, “with a chick.”

That makes absolutely _no_ sense to Jensen. “But… you're going to let her fuck you like a man.” 

“Still not a guy. And it's not like I got a problem with men, you know, they just don’t fuckin’ do it for me.

Jensen blinks once. “But you’re going to let her _fuck you like a man_.”

Chad sighs with theatrical forbearance. “Okay, so riddle me this, Jensen; you and Jay do all _kinds_ of crazy shit, right? You ever think about doing any of it with a chick?”

Chad looks surprised when Jensen actually considers the question.

“I _have_ been with a woman--”

“I knew that,” Chad nods, waving a hand through the air, dismissive. 

“Oh, good,” Jensen deadpans. “I’m so glad you know all my deepest darkest secrets.”

“But didn't it like, scar you for life and shit?”

“Not the sex.” Jensen hesitates and reconsiders. “Well. The sex was _part_ of it, but it wasn't the genitalia so much as what the sex was about.”

Chad’s brows fly up, eyes widening a little on Jensen with total focus. “So you think about fucking chicks?”

“How do you even make these leaps of logic?” Jensen asks, shaking his head.

Chad lifts his chin, smirking at Jensen. “Hey dude, there was no leaping. You walked into this shit just fine all by your fuckin’ self. So, do you?”

Jensen bites his lower lip and hesitates again, looking at the toy display.

To say that Chad freaks out is a bit of an understatement.

“No fuckin’ _shit_?” Chad exclaims at approximately the top of his lungs. “Jensen, you sly fucker--WHO?” 

Every eye in the store turns to look them. It really doesn’t help that Chad’s holding up one of the biggest dildos in the entire shop. It’s wriggling in the air like some kind of alien insect, and it’s the most ridiculous shade of hot-pink Jensen’s ever seen.

He cuts Chad his most severe glare—the one that makes most people wither and slink away. But Chad just stands there, staring at him expectantly.

Jensen needs to get through this and get out of here, because it’s seriously messing with his head.

“You know, Jenny, for such a kinky motherfucker, you sure are uptight.”

“I am _not_ uptight.”

Jensen turns his attention forcefully to the array of toys in front of them. When he’s sure everyone in the store has gone back to pretending there’s no one else here, he says, in a low voice, “It’s not like I think women are disgusting. I’m just not attracted to them.”

“Okay, so see then? We fuckin' understand each other.” Chad smiles and pats Jensen on the back.

“Except maybe for Kate Beckinsale,” Jensen mutters.

Chad nods his understanding, sage and solemn. “Hell, that's not hetero, dude. That's human--anybody'd fuck that. You know,” Chad goes on, conversationally. “I had my own fatal attraction thing. Every guy's gotta have one of those, right? Have dick; gotta date at least one dysfunctional psycho. We’re all just holding up our fuckin' contractual obligation to the universe.”

“So what happened to you?” Jensen’s curious.

“Well, you know me and Sandy split a while back.” Chad rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “And that wasn’t the best time of my life, know what I’m sayin’? But you know, shit happens, things change, you gotta do your own thing, grow your own way. And I figured I'd grow my own, right?” Chad pauses for dramatic effect.

“What I didn't count on was all the _alcohol_.”

“Cindy's what happens to guys like me when they can't chew their arm off fast enough the morning after. She's one of those girls with a high-pitched squeaky voice that never stops talking. You know, the kinda girl you see on shows like Springer.” Chad looks at Jensen like this is supposed to mean something to Jensen.

“I don’t watch Jerry Springer.”

“Right, okay. The kind of girl that makes good men grow beer-bellies and wear wife beater tank tops and usually lands them in jail for murder one.” Jensen nods understanding and Chad goes on. “I used to wonder what happened to guys like that—what makes somebody stay with a fuckin’ chick 'til they snap. _Now_ I fuckin’ get it. It starts with the sex.”

“Starts?”

“Oh yeah, there’s phases to this shit, check it out.” Chad moves his hands around, starting to pick up the rhythm of the story. “Cindy was like Marilyn Monroe, you know, if Marilyn had fuckin’ lobotomy. And you wanna hit that shit. As many times as possible. But after a while, the sex ain’t enough to make up for the fuckin’ _bleating_ , dude, and you start realizing it's time to hit the road or buy a fuckin' axe, you know? That's when phase two kicks in.”

Jensen frowns. “Phase two?”

“The claws.” Chad nods. “Claws like a fuckin’ harpy on crack. You tell her it's done, and then one night you come home drunk at fuck o’clock and there she fuckin’ is, with open arms and open legs. And when you wake up next to her with your brain trying to bust outta your skull like it’s a fuckin’ alien monster, you start to realize she's just never gonna go away. And compared to the hangover, it starts to seem like it's not so fuckin' bad.” Chad shrugs and sets a cock ring back on the shelf. “At least until the hangover’s gone.”

“So, anyway, she calls me after one of these crazy ass fuckin’ nights, and she says to me, no shit—Chad, I'm not happy with our relationship.”

Jensen can’t help snorting out a laugh.

“I know right?” Chad nods emphatically. “So she’s all, you never take me anywhere. We never go to dinner, you never buy me anything. All my sorority sister's boyfriends buy them shit. Muffy got a fur coat for her birthday yesterday!"

Jensen is familiar with the type. He grew up in that kind of world. He can sympathize.

“And I’m like, yeah, that should come in handy in the California winter. And see, check this out. I don't get this whole 'honey, you're so fuckin' awesome I bought you a dead animal to wear' thing. I mean, what the fuck is that, right? It's _caveman_. Ug, here, dead animal for you.” Chad does a scarily accurate impression of a caveman, hunching his shoulders and stooping. “What the fuck does that prove? I mean, back in the day, I fuckin' get it; hunter/gatherer, right? Man hunted the animals, protected the women, brought them the skins like trophies. But it's the fucking 21st century, dude. Man goes to store; he buys a fuckin' fur coat. How hard is _that_?"

Right. “This is why I hated dating,” Jensen agrees.

“Okay, let’s think about this. You think I treat you like shit. But if I turn out the cured hide of some endangered animal, suddenly I’d be the best fuckin’ thing ever? And she’s all, _yes_. Of course, duh.”

“So, I’m like, look, Cind. This thing with me and you? It’s never gonna work. We’re way too different. And I mean, we’re not talkin’ apples and oranges, here, we’re talkin’ like, Hitler and fuckin’ Ghandi, okay?”

“And she’s all like, Chad, are you breaking up with me? And I’m like no, dude, we’d have to actually be dating for me to break up with you, but yeah, okay, if that’s what works for you, sure. Let’s break up.”

“And that did it?” Jensen asks, brows rising.

“Fuck no. Then she starts _really_ freaking out. She’s talking so fast she sounds like Charlie Brown’s fuckin’ teacher, right—only on fast forward and like the machine’s eating the fuckin’ soundtrack tape. And I’m not looking to come home and find a boiling rabbit on my stove, know what I’m saying? So I say, you know what, Cindy? You're right. I haven't been taking this seriously. I see that now. I’ve been using you. Which is sorta true, except that she’s the one who kept showin’ up at my place no matter how many times I tried ditching her--like one of those fuckin’ dogs from _The Incredible Journey_ and shit. But I don’t tell her that part, I just say, I don’t fuckin’ deserve you. Which is also the fuckin’ truth, just not the way she thought I meant it.”

“And _that_ worked?” Jensen asks.

“Nah,” Chad lifts his hands and grins, string of day-glo green anal beads dangling from one. “I finally had to tell her I’m gay and only fuck chicks when I’m totally wasted.”

Jensen stands there for a second in complete stunned disbelief. And then he chuckles, chortles, finally laughing so hard he has to wipe tears away from the corners of his eyes. “You actually… told her that?”

“Dude, I couldn’t scrape that chick off with a fuckin’ _spoon_.”

“Are you _sure_ you’re not gay?”

“Fuck you, Jenny. Don’t even start with that shit.” Chad whaps him on the shoulder with a floppy purple dick and tosses it back on the shelf. “I know you fuckin’ want me, but you gotta let that shit go, man. It ain’t healthy holding on like this.”

“I just think you should embrace your bisexuality, Chad.”

“You wish, motherfucker.”

Jensen just smirks to himself.

*

They’ve been in the store for close to two hours, Chad grabbing every single ridiculously enormous cock he can get his hands on and asking Jensen every intimately detailed question he can think of. 

Jensen’s reached the end of his patience when Chad reaches out and picks up a gigantic rubber cock that looks to be about six inches around. Jensen’s seen baseball bats smaller than this thing.

“What about something like this?”

“That depends,” Jensen says.

“On what?”

“Are you trying to get fucked or do you want her to bludgeon you to death?”

Chad looks at the rubber cock like he’s weighing the question.

“Chad,” Jensen snaps. “It’s your first time. Start with something small. You can work up to taking the coffee table in your ass if you want to. One day you might be able to take the Empire State Building if that’s what does it for you. But you try and shove _this_ in your ass the first time,” Jensen snatches the dildo from Chad’s hand and brandishes it at him, “and you’re going to end up in a wheel chair. Your ass is _not_ the Grand Canyon.”

Chad freezes. Turns his head to look at Jensen in amazement. And then Chad bursts out laughing so hard that everyone in the store is looking at them again.

“That’s what the fuck _I’m_ talkin’ about,” Chad chokes out, still laughing as he claps Jensen on the back. “Bout goddamned time I started rubbing off on you.”

Jensen picks up a five inch dildo about two inches around from the display and thrusts it at Chad. It’s a perfectly respectable peach-flesh-tone and decidedly _very_ not pink, green or purple. “This one.”

Chad looks down at it and frowns. “But, dude. That’s not even as big as I—“

“Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Jensen warns. 

“But--”

“ _This_ one.”

*

Chad’s beyond pleased when he climbs into the car alongside Jensen. “I gotta say, I’m fuckin’ proud of you for doing this, dude. It must’ve been really fuckin’ tough for you.”

“Chad.” Jensen turns to him in all seriousness. “Does this seem dysfunctional to you?”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? There’s dysfunctional, and then there’s whatever the fuck _this_ is.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Chad looks thoughtful for a second, then nods, smirking. “But you did good. You know, dude. If I really was gay? I’d ask Jared if he’d let you be my first time.”

Jensen’s brain buzzes like the static of a dead TV channel as he tries to process that. He can’t even… no, he really _can’t_. 

“That’s the most disturbing thing you’ve ever said to me. And that’s at the top of an impressive list.” 

“Ah, don’t go getting performance anxiety on me, Jen,” Chad says and winks at him. “It’s never gonna happen. You gotta let the dream go.”

It’s not until after he drops Chad off that Jensen realizes it might also be the nicest thing Chad’s ever said to him.

Which is equally disturbing.

*

“So how’d it go?” Jared asks when he walks through the door. 

Jensen heads straight for the kitchen and sets his bag on the counter, grabs the single malt scotch from the top shelf and pours himself a glass. 

“That good?” Jared asks, leaning against the doorway and grinning at him.

Jensen takes a long drink, sets the glass down and looks at Jared. “He told me if he was really gay he’d ask you to let me be his first time.”

Jared covers his mouth with one hand and it takes him a few seconds to get control of himself. “Well,” he coughs. “You know. That’s _weird_ , but it’s also really kind of sweet.”

“You don’t have a problem with this?”

“Every guy’s first time should be as amazing as mine.” Jared’s enjoying this _way_ too much. “Besides, it’s _Chad_. Like you’re gonna run off and leave me for _him_?”

Jensen downs the rest of his scotch. “You know, I bought all these toys for us to play with while I was there. But now I think I’m just going to torture you with them all night.”

“I could pretend to be Chad if it’ll help,” Jared offers, half-choking out the words through his laughter.

Jensen grabs the bag off the counter and points at Jared. “That’s it. Get your ass in the bedroom right the fuck now.”

Jared _runs_.

  
  



End file.
